Monday, June 24, 2013

REVIEW: PUMPED UP - A BACCHANALIA by the PUMPS PINUPS

Last
week I handed in a review of a recent metal concert to the
editor-in-chief at Decibel Magazine. I was asked to describe 4+ hours of
music and moshing in 450 words. While that was a challenge, the real
kicker was that when I attended the show I wasn’t aware I’d be reviewing
it later. This lead to many (MANY) beers beforehand. I’m proud of the
final product, but I have no doubt my journalistic skills were severely
corroded with each $1 PBR/shot of Jack I enjoyed over at Duff’s.

When
I arrived at Pumps, the “anti-gentleman’s club” of Brooklyn, I was
entirely dedicated to staying sober and reporting the events with
unrelenting accuracy. Several empty shot glasses of Jameson later, here
are my notes regarding the second performance of the Pumps Pinups, the
burlesque ensemble lead by show director/creator Scarlett la Rosa. Some
may be out of chronological order, because there was a strange whiskey
stain (I hope?) on a few of the pages:

It’s
8:45 PM, I’ve perused the assortment of sexually-charged artwork
(curated by the talented Aubrey Roemer) featuring blacklight paints, and
I’m sipping a Bud while Jesse McCloskey’s charcoal drawing of a
seriously unhinged witch stares at me from the wall.

Kat,
who befriends everyone within thirty seconds and one smile, bartends
the event with the lovely Vanessa. Kat tells me she’s “way ahead of me”
and has downed several shot of Patron. She declines taking a shot with
me, but changes her mind about fifty seconds later. Vanessa grimaces as
she joins for a shot, with orange nails glowing in the dimness.

The
girls take the stage and they’re breathtaking, all writhing against the
three poles positioned on the stage. Scarlett la Rosa belts out a gentle
version of Guns ‘N Roses’ “Sweet Child O’ Mine” with piano
accompaniment (from Dom of the band Air of Ants). The hardcore band I
drummed for in high school used to cover the song as well, but without
the grace and originality.

Spank
Sinatra summons the spirit of Jessica Rabbit by way of Etta James for a
smoky, seductive version of “Why Don’t You Do Right?” Jessica Rabbit
was my first crush, and it was deeply tragic when I learned I could not
date, marry, or fuck a cartoon senseless. This song just reaffirmed my
love for that bad girl, even if she was just drawn that way.

Gypsy
Nyx follows with two smoothly sung songs, “Burlesque” and “All That
Jazz,” while the smirking and exceptionally strong Harley Quinn stuns
the audience with acrobatic pole dancing. Gypsy owns an effortless
sultry confidence and sounds like she’d be perfect for a James Bond
theme song.

Sophie
Von Z dances with the dangerous appeal of a Prohibition era speakeasy
back room striptease. Transports me to a time where I need to whisper a
password through a hole in a brick wall to a scarfaced lug in a fedora
to earn entrance. Luckily, liquor is easier to come by now, and entrance
to see Sophie Von Z is a modest $7 cover charge.

Spank
Sinatra returns to the stage, declaring after some banter with Rockett
that her drug of choice is “dick.” She launches into a crowd-pleasing
number I will refer to as “I Want To Be Fucked By You,” a song that
fills the air with howls, whistles, and (allegedly) semen. Pure
brilliance, an ode to submissive sensuality and a blunt injection of
libido that shows sometimes innuendo is totally overrated.

Shanlita
Bandita graces the stage for the first time as a recently dumped dame
swallowed by depression after her scumbag boyfriend left her at a liquor
store. She haunts the stage with a flask and a solemn trench coat
before attempting the world’s first suicide by water pistol. Luckily for
all of us, her aim is horrible.

Sophie
Von Z dances for everyone’s communal enjoyment again, in a new golden
Romany-inspired outfit with a transparent black cape. It’s a more exotic
performance than her previous song, and makes me hear the distant
chimes of finger cymbals and ankle bells. She sizzles, all eyes locked
on the stage.

Scarlett la Rosa breaks hearts with a gorgeous red over-bust corset. Maybe I’ve
frequented too many Renaissance Festivals, maybe it’s my days as a high
school goth, but corsets kill me every time. She nailed the mysterious
femme fatale quality that made “Sooner or Later” so hot in “Dick Tracy.”
Plus, she totally out-sings Madonna.

Shanlita
Bandita gleefully comes back to the stage after her successful therapy:
Discovering the joys of “returning to her white trash roots” with the
pleasures of boxed wine. She dances with pep and passion, rocking
platform converse sneakers with clear heels that seem nineteen inches
tall. She ends her energetic highlight performance by drenching herself
in wine from the box’s lecherous nozzle. It was like “Flashdance” for
alcoholics.

More
to drink. Harley Quinn in a (crotchless) cat outfit, wiping up the
white wine from the ground. She also purrs across the bar top, gathering
donations for the girls. I don’t know why men have a primal attraction
to women dressed as cats. I tell my girlfriend I think all men are
inherently open to beastiality because of this. She says that makes her
nervous about us both sharing a pet cat. Shanlita shares the box of wine
with adventurous audience members. The wine tastes amazing, which
signals I am thoroughly blitzed. While the stage is being cleaned and
swept, the blue-haired head-banging beauty (and co-MC) Rocket Shippes
pleads, “Get that broom away from me, I’m horny.”

Ms.
Quinn (who Rocket claims “puts the Bang in Bangladesh) charms the
audience with an erotic calm and a punk rock aesthetic. Heavily tattooed
and pierced, the ladies to my left both take note of how striking she
is and talk at length about her appeal. I don’t hear much besides a
murmured blur and a few key words because I’m too busy staring.

Spank
Sinatra again, and she keeps outdoing herself. This time it’s like she
crept into my morbid fantasies and mined it for images. She comes to the
stage with dramatic skull make-up, looking like the attractive female
version of Papa Emeritus from Ghost B.C., which doesn’t sound like much
of a compliment until you realize I’m a huge metalhead. She destroys the
crowd with a macabre version of the Screamin’ Jay Hawkins classic “I
Put A Spell On You,” a song that burns with sex appeal and has never
sounded more fiery. Her performance is hotter than a long fuck in a
moonlit cemetery.

Pumps
owner Andy walks through the crowd and reluctantly accepts applause as
Rocket destroys with one of her many viciously awesome one-liners,
saying, “He’s done more for us than our dysfunctional fathers.” He’s
just as happy letting the girls have the whole spotlight, despite the
success of the event in his venue.

Despite
some audio issues, first-time Pumps Pinup Bianca Dagga sways in a red
skirt before treating the eager crowd to a striptease. She ends the
performance by igniting the ends of her pastie tassels and swirling them
in a perfect ring of fire that’s way hotter than anything Johnny Cash
ever sang about. Huge applause ends the show, everyone’s smiling, more
drinks ordered.

This
show is a helluva lot of fun. I understand not everyone is as
open-minded or sex-positive, but this is celebratory entertainment and a
true art form. There was no creepy leering, no heckling, just a crowd
totally on-board with pretty girls using their various talents to make
everyone smile and go home happy. If you read my interview with Scarlett la Rosa, then you know they all achieved exactly what they wanted. I
have no doubt they will overcome the mild technical glitches and
obstacles they faced during the show and delight everyone with another
performance in the future. This is definitely the sort of creative
spirit that made New York/Brooklyn a destination for artists and
artistic expression. You can wander into any Starbucks and meet a dozen
writers (who haven’t actually written a word of that masterpiece novel
they talk about every day for years at a time), or you can wander down
to Pumps for these occasional burlesque nights and experience singing,
dancing, comedy, stripteasing, photography, and cutting edge artwork all
in the same evening. This is why art thrives in communities. Make
yourself a part of it, because even audiences are participants.